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ING’S MESSENGERS, 


AN ALLEGORICAL TALE 


BY THE 


REV. W. ADAMS, M.A. 

TXI.Z.OW 07 ICZRTOir OOZ.Z.SOB, OZXORD 

AUTHOR OP 

Tax SHADOW 07 TBB CROSS. 


Laj up for yourselves treasures in Heaven.— M att, vl. 20 


PROM T^E LONDON EDITION, 

WITH EN0RAVIN03 EXECUTED BT W. HOWLAND, 
FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS 
BT WEIR. 


SIXTH AMERICAN EDITION. 

> > > 

> ^ 

NE'V/ ‘YORK: 

. GENERAL PROT. EPISCOPAL S. S. UNION» 

DANIEL DANA Jr. AGENT, 

Depository 20 John Street 
1S49. 


•?Z.T 

,Ba.« 

(p 


Ewtekkd according to Act of Congress, in the year 1843, by 
John W. Mitchell, (as Tkeasurer of the General Prostestant 
Episcopal Sunday School Union,) in the Office of the Clerk of 
the United States District Court for the Southern District of 
New York. 




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CONSTANCE KNOLLYS 


AND 


HER BROTHERS 

CMs Slfttle Tolumc ts SnscrfbcTi 


B T 


THEIB OODFATBBB 


THE AUTHOR. 


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The following tale differs, in some 
respects, both in design and character, 
from the preceding allegories by the 
same author. It is not intended to give 
a general view of our state as Chris- 
tians, but merely to bring forward, 
prominently and distinctly, a single 
Christian duty. In consequence of 
this, it involves very little of doctrinal 
teaching, while the allegorical meaning 
lies so completely on the surface, that 
the youngest child cannot fad to appre- 
hend it. For both these reasons, any 


6 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


explanatory conversations have been 
considered unnecessary. But a con- 
versation of a different character has 
been annexed, in order to obviate the 
misconstruction to which the dwelling 
on any one duty to the exclusion of 
others is always hable, and, at the same 
time, to apply and illustrate the truths 
conveyed in the stoiy. 


Boncuurch, 
Die. 26 , 1847 . 


Introlruction. 


“ Has any one called during my ab- 
sence ? ” inquired Mr. Mertoun of his 
nephew, Leonard, on returning home 
after his usual round of parochial visits. 

“ No one,” replied the boy ; “I have 
been with Mary in the garden, and if 
they had, I could not have helped see- 
ing them.” 

“It is strange,” said Mr. Mertoun, 
“ are you quite sure there has been no 
one?” 

“ Quite sure,” he answered, but pre- 
sently added, correcting himself, “at 
least, no one of any consequence — only 
some poor man.” 


8 


INTRODUCTION 


The tone in which the last words 
were uttered, no less than the answer 
itself, grated harshly on Mr. Mertoun’s 
ear. “ Only some poor man!'' he re- 
peated; “why, Leonard, do you say 
only‘s Might not his visit be of con- 
sequence?” 

The boy looked confused, but endea- 
voured to justify his former reply, by 
saying, “ Of consequence to himself, 
uncle, but I meant, of no consequence 
to you.” 

“ Nay, my dear boy,” replied Mr. 
Mertoun, “ you now speak even more 
thoughtlessly than before. It could 
not have been the one without being 
the other also. Remember, that it can 
never be of more importance for the 
poor man to declare his wants than it 
is for those who have the means to 


INTRODUCTION. 


9 


relieve them. Do you think you un- 
derstand me ?” 

“I believe, uncle, I do,” he replied, 
thoughtfully. “ You mean, as you told 
us on Sunday, that ‘ it is more blessed 
to give than to receive.’ ” 

“ Mr. Mertoun perceived from the 
reply, that he had awakened the train 
of reflection which he wished, and did 
not, at the time, pursue the conversa- 
tion. But the words, “owZy some 'poor 
man^'‘ kept recurring painfully to his 
own mind. His nephew and niece 
had been with him but a few days, 
yet it was not the first time he had 
observed in them a want of sympathy 
for the poor. This was, perhaps, an 
almost necessary result of their having 
been brought up in London. No oppor- 
tunity had been there afforded them 


10 


INTRODUCTION. 


of visiting the poor in their own homes. 
They had learned to look upon all 
beggars as impostors, and drew no 
distinction between real and pretended v 
cases of distress. Thus, though in 
other respects they were loving and 
obedient children, and weU grounded 
in the principles of the Christian faith, 
the numerous warnings in the Gospel 
concerning the danger of wealth, and 
its only safeguard, remained to them 
almost a dead letter. 

It was with -a view of remedying 
this defect, and bringing distinctly be- 
fore them the important office assign- 
ed to the poor by our Blessed Lord, 
that on the evening of the above con- 
versation their uncle told them the 
following story. 


King’a iHcasmigtrs. 


CHAPTER 1. 

Largely Thou givest, gracious Loud, 
Largely Thy gifts shotild he restored; 
Freely Thou givest, and Thy -word 
Is " freely give." 

He only -who forgets to hoard. 

Has learn’d to live. 

CHRISTIAN TEAR. 


The city of Metoecia lay to the west 
of the dominions of a Great King. It 
was an ancient city, and had gradually 
become very large and populous. But 
the original settlers had been placed 


12 THE king’s messengers. 

there in consequence of a rebellion 
against the King’s authority ; and a 
remarkable law continued to prevail 
among their descendants as a memorial 
of their crime. No one was allowed to 
remain in it above a certain number of 
years, and no one, when he left it, was 
permitted to take any portion of his 
property with him. This was called 
the law of Exile. The Great King had 
himself enacted it, and the citizens had 
no resource but submission. There was 
not even a fixed and definite period al- 
lotted for their stay. They were liable 
at any moment to receive the Royal 
Mandate. It came to them also one 
by one. As each was summoned to 
depart, his dearest friends could only 
accompany him as far as the gates of 
the city. And he was then stripped 


THE king’s messengers. 13 

of all his possessions, and sent forth 
as an exile on his sohtary journey. 

Now, as the inhabitants of Metoecia 
were principally merchants, one would 
have imagined that such a law must 
have proved a source of perpetual dis- 
quietude and alarm. Yet this was not 
the case. Occasionally, indeed, when 
it was enforced against a veiy rich man, 
it would awaken sad thoughts in his 
companions, and cause them to mourn 
over the uncertainty of their wealth. 
But, for, the most part, they all lived 
on in a false security. Every one fan- 
cied his possessions to be as really his 
own as though he had been able to re- 
tain them at will. Such a delusion may 
appear unaccountable ; but, we must 
remember, that they had gradually be- 
come accustomed to the law, and for 


14 THE king’s messengers. 

that reason it was lightly regarded by 
them or altogether forgotten. 

The Great iCing, however, was full 
of compassion, and took much thought 
for the poor exiles, who were thus care- 
less of themselves. He knew how dark 
and dreary was the wilderness that sur- 
rounded the city, and was unwilling 
that any should be left there to perish. 
He did not, indeed, reverse his original 
decree, but he did far more than this. 
He changed it from a punishment into 
a blessing. He offered to receive the 
exiles into a better and more glorious 
City than that from which he took them. 
If they rejected this offer the fault was 
their own. All the conditions on which 
it was made were very easy, and the 
King himself had promised to enable 
the citizens to perform them. But we 


THE king’s messengers. 15 

need not dwell upon them all, for one 
alone which applied more especially 
to the wealthier merchants is brought 
before us by the present story. 

In the city of Metoecia dwelt four 
brothers, Philargyr, Megacles, Eupre- 
pes, and Sophron. At the period at 
which I commence their history, the 
sentence of exile 'had lately been pro- 
nounced against their father. He had 
been a merchant of enormous wealth ; 
and as, in accordance with the law, he 
was allowed to take nothing for his 
own wants, the whole of his vast 
possessions had fallen into the hands of 
his children. They had met in order 
to divide them. The room in which 
they assembled for this purpose was 
fiUed with the most costly furniture. 
The floor was covered with cloth of 


16 THE king’s messengers. 

gold, which was now partially con- 
cealed by bales of yet more valuable 
merchandise, and heaps of precious 
stones which had been placed there, 
to await the choice of the brothers. 
Two sides of the apartment were hung 
with the most gorgeous tapestiy, on 
the third was a window commanding 
an extensive view towards the west, 
while the wall opposite to the window 
was entirely covered by a spacious mir- 
ror, which reflected the various objects 
in the room itself and the street beyond. 
• But, in the midst of all this external 
splendour, a cloud sate on the coun- 
tenance of each of the brothers. The 
departure of their father was too recent 
to allow them to forget the transitory 
character of the treasures which they 
were about to share. Let a few years 


THE king’s messengers. 


17 


pass, and each in his turn would be 
compelled to leave them, and go forth 
without money, without home, and 
without friends, into the dreary desert 
that lay around the city. 

It was these thoughts which rendered 
them sad. They had never before fell 
the full burthen of the law of exile ; 
they had been aware of its existence, 
for no citizen could be ignorant of it; 
but hitherto they had seen it, as it were, 
in the distance. It now seemed to meet 
them directly in their own path, and to 
force itself on their attention ; so that 
the eldest brother did but echo the 
feelings of the rest when he said, “ Of 
what profit is this enormous wealth? 
In the day of our banishment it wiU 
not purchase for us th^ delay of a 
single hour. How gladly would I bar- 


18 THE king’s messengers. 

ter the whole of it for some quiet dwell- 
ing-place, where we might remain in 
security for ever!” 

He had not yet finished speaking, 
when his eyes were attracted by the 
mirror, which I have described as cov- 
ering one side of the room. Some image 
appeared to be moving across it, which 
was not visible in the apartment itself. 
He pointed it out to his brothers, and 
it was clear from their anxious looks 
that they beheld it also. It was as 
the form of an old man. There was 
nothing in his appearance to excite 
terror, but every object as seen in the 
mirror was changed by his presence, 
His foot trod on the cloth of gold, and 
it became mouldering and worm-eaten : 
The hem of his garment swept against 
a table of solid ivory, and it fell crumb- 


THE king’s messengers. 


19 


ling into dust : while the bales of mer- 
chandise and precious stones lost their 
richness and splendour, as his cold eye 
rested upon them. 

The brothers watched these signs 
with a sensation of chilling fear, and the 
eldest already repented his hasty words. 
For, in truth, in his inmost heart, he 
deeply loved the glittering wealth, 
and he was afraid lest the mysterious 
stranger might take it away, and give, 
him in its stead the quiet dwelling for 
which he had asked. 

At length it seemed to them that the 
image of the old man thus addressed 
them : — “ Children, your wish is vain. 
You must not speak of bartering these 
treasures for a lasting home. They are 
not really yours ; they belong to the 
Great King, whose subjects you are 

B3 


20 THE king’s messengers. 

Restore them’ to him now, and he will 
keep them for you, and in the day of 
your exile give them to you again. In 
this city they are worthless. See how 
even my slightest touch here causes 
them to decay. But in the King’s 
palace they become incorruptible. I 
have no power over them there.” 

The brothers were yet more troubled 
at his words. They knew well that all 
the riches of Metoecia belonged to the 
Great King; but they were disquieted 
at the thought of restoring them to 
him again. A vague fear arose that the 
sentence of exile was about to be pass- 
ed against themselves ; and all, in some 
degree, shared the apprehensions of 
Philargyr. The old man appeared to 
read their thoughts, and thus replied to 
them : — 


THE king’s messengers. 


21 


“Fear not; I am not now come to 
deprive you of your wealth. Hereafter, 
indeed, I shall return with the Royal 
Mandate, but in that hour you will both 
see and feel that I am near. To-day 
my voice comes to you from a distance, 
and it is but my reflected image that 
you behold. Yet I bear you a message 
from the Great King. You have wished 
to purchase for yourselves a lasting 
home ; I have said that you cannot pur- 
chase it, because your riches are not 
your own ; they belong to the Great 
King. You must trust them freely to 
his Messengers, without asking for a 
return ; and he will store them up for 
you in his own palace, and, when you 
are driven from hence, will suffer you 
to dwell with his children in a Glorious 
City where the law of exile is unknown. 


22 THE king’s messengers. 

But beware lest you neglect this warn- 
ing, and defraud the Great King of the 
riches committed to your trust; for if 
you refuse to give them to his Messen- 
gers, and either hoard them up or spend 
them on yourselves, you will have no 
treasure laid up for you in the Royal 
Palace, and the gates of the Glorious 
City will be closed against you for 
ever.” 

Now, there was nothing really new to 
the merchants in the old man’s warn- 
ing. The royal offers of pardon, and 
the dangers of the neglect of them, were 
well known in the city. But the in- 
habitants seldom spoke of them to one 
another, because they loved their riches 
and were unwiUing to render obedience 
to the King’s commands. The brothers 
had hitherto shared in the general feel- 


THE king’s messengers. 23 

ing ; and it was, perhaps, only because 
the remembrance of their father’s de- 
parture was weighing heavily upon 
them that they had so long hstened to 
the voice which now addressed them. 
It did not, indeed, seem to pass through 
their' ears at all, but to fall at once in- 
wardly on their hearts, and for the pre- 
sent they could not help regarding it. 
Yet all shrank from asking in what 
way they were to send their treasures 
to the Royal Palace. They were not, 
however, left in doubt. The reflection 
of the street in which their house stood 
was, as I have said, visible in the mir- 
ror. The figure of the old man now 
pointed towards it ; and as he did so, 
the young merchants heard distinctly 
the words, “ Behold the Messengers of 
the Great King!” 


24 THE king’s messengers. 

They followed the direction of his 
finger, and it seemed to them that the 
approach to their luxurious dwelling was 
now crowded with every form of disease 
and want. The poor, the maimed, and 
the blind, were there. Men who seem- 
ed stimulated to, madness by famine, 
and little infants who could scarce 
crawl upon 'the ground, formed part 
of the same vast concourse. StiU, as 
the old man pointed, their numbers 
went on increasing in every direction, 
until, as far as the eye could reach, 
every sign of wealth and luxury had 
disappeared, and in their stead was 
one universal scene of misery. Pre- 
sently the shrieks of the dying, the 
cries of orphans, and the wailing of 
widows, rose in the air; and then, out 
of the tumult, the low solemn voice of 


THE king’s messengers. 25 

the old man fell once more on the hearts 
of the brothers. 

“These,” he said, “and such as these, 
are the Messengers of the Great King. 
Numerous as they are, they will come 
to you in secret, and one by one. Trust 
them with your treasure, and it will be 
safe ; they wid bear it for you to the 
Royal Palace. The journey thither is 
long and dangerous ; but if you are 
sincere in your- wish to send it, the 
Great King will not suffer it to be lost 
Only do not cause them to linger need- 
lessly within the city • walls ; and let 
their departure be secret, lest the King’s 
enemies should impede them on their 
way.” 

, The form of the old man gradually 
disappeared as he ceased speaking; and 
the signs of his presence passed away; 


26 THE king’s messengers. 

the ivory table, the cloth of gold, and 
the heaps of precious stones, resumed 
the beauty and splendour which they 
had lost. The brothers once more 
breathed freely. Hitherto their eyes 
had been riveted by a kind of fascina- 
tion on the mirror. They now looked 
anxiously around the apartment itself; 
but it had undergone no change. If 
the old man had trodden upon it, not 
one trace of his footsteps had been left. 
They then turned their eyes towards 
the window. The street presented its 
usual appearance ; there was the busy 
throng hurrying hither and thither, 
and splendid equipages, and waggons 
laden with merchandise. But they saw 
nothing to remind them of the view 
presented by the mirror, save some few 
beggars who chanced to linger at their 


THE^ king’s messengers. 27 

door. As Philargyr threw open the 
sash to inhale the fresh air, they eagerly 
asked the young merchants for alms ; 
and there was not one wh‘> at that 
moment could refuse to give them; for 
the words of^the stranger were fresh in 
their memory, and they felt every poor 
man to be a Messenger from the Great 


5L1)e lvinig ’0 ilTcasaigera. 


CHAPTER II. 


Chbist "before t'hy door is ■waiting— 

Rouse thee, slave of earthly gold. 

Lo. He comes, thy pomp abating. 

Hungry, ■thirsty, homeless, cold. 

LTBA I1IN003NTIUM. 


The brothers were too deeply affected 
by the warning of the old man to pro- 
ceed to the immediate division of their 
wealth. At one time, they even con- 
templated holding it in common, and 
consulted together on the best means 
of restoring it to the Great King. But 
from the first, their views, differed so 


THE king’s messengers. 29 

greatly, that they could agree on no 
settled plan. And, during the interval 
consumed in their discussions, their 
feelings underwent a partial change. 
The words of the stranger seemed to 
lose their distinctness. Their riches 
recovered, in some degree, the value 
they had lost; and at length they re- 
verted to their original plan of dividing 
them into four parts, so that each might 
take his own share, and do with it as 
he pleased. 

Philargyr was entrusted with the di- 
vision. Many months elapsed while 
he was absorbed in his calculations, 
and settling how large a portion he 
might appropriate to himself. During 
this time he was more than once inter- 
rupted by Messengers from the Great 
King. But their applications were in 


30 


THE king’s messengers. 


vain. He always returned the same 
answer, that, until the property was 
divided, no portion of it could be trans- 
mitted to the Royal Palace. 

At length the division was made. 
The younger brothers were satisfied, 
though none were able to follow the 
calculations of Philargyr. Each had a 
share assigned to him, which, consider- 
ing the shortness of their probable 
sojourn in the city, seemed inexhaust- 
ible, and each was left to follow his 
own course. 

I proceed to give a brief sketch ot 
their history. 

The remarkable point in that of Phi- 
largyr, the eldest, was his utter for- 
getfulness, not only of the old man’s 
warning, but of the law of the city in 
which he dwelt. Every act of his life 


THE king’s messengers. 


31 


appeared to set them at defiance. His 
one great object was to accumulate 
wealth. He neither trusted it to the 
King’s Messengers, nor spent it in pro- 
curing the good-will of his fellow- 
citizens, but hoarded it up within the 
walls of his own house. There was no 
present gratification that he would not 
sacrifice, in the hope of adding to his 
possessions for future years. And this 
he did with the sentence of exile hang- 
ing over his head, and the positivb 
certainty, that, when he left the city, 
he would not be allowed to take the 
smallest portion of them away. 

I have already said, that the inha- 
bitants of Metoecia lived, for the most 
part, in forgetfulness of the law of 
Exile. But the conduct of Philargyr 
appeared unaccountable even to the 


32 THE king’s messengers. 

most thoughtless among them. He was 
supposed to be under the influence of 
A spell; and the following legend was 
commonly reported through the city : — 
There had been, it was rumoured, 
a mine of gold communicating with 
the house of the departed merchant. 
Philargyr had taken possession of it, 
unknown to his brothers. This mine 
was haunted by an evil spirit, who had 
beguiled him by specious offers of 
assistance. For a time they had 
laboured together; but the evil spirit, 
while pretending to work out the 
precious ore, had changed the mine 
into a dungeon, and bound Philargyr 
hand and foot with chains of gold. 
After he had thus made him captive, 
he refused to allow him to return to 
the upper air, unless he would become 


THE king’s messengers. 33 

his slave, and labour incessantly in 
bringing new treasures to the mine. It 
was farther said, that the golden bonds 
had never from that hour been removed ; 
and that though they were invisible 
to the naked eye, the signs of their 
presence might be detected in every 
look and gesture of the unhappy mer- 
chant. Thus his head was continually 
bent downwards, and his very walk con- 
strained and embarrassed, because the 
chains and fetters that he wore weighed 
heavily upon him and impeded his steps. 

Strange as this legend seems, it was, 
in the main, true. One part alone was 
incorrect. The spirit of the gold mine 
had not used threats or violence ; he 
had, throughout, accomplished his pur- 
pose by treachery, and Philargyr had 
sunk, imperceptibly, into a state of ser- 


34 THE king’s messengers. 

vitude. His chains had been light and 
flexible when they were first twined 
‘around his limbs. It was while he 
wore them that, by httle and little, they 
had increased in size and strength. 
For such was the nature of those bonds, 
that, when newly wrought, they were 
most easily broken. For this reason, 
he was not suffered to feel their pressure 
until they had been hardened by time ; 
and even then, the change was so gra- 
dual, that Philargyr was not aware of 
it. The signs of his bondage, which 
seemed so clear to others, passed un- 
noticed by himself. 

Still, however, he was a slave, and 
by httle and httle incurred the full 
misery of servitude, though to the last 
unconscious of its cause. Morning, 
noon, and evening, he laboured for an 


THE king’s messengers. 35 • 

insatiable master, who allowed him no 
share in the profits of his toil. Every 
day was passed in drudgery and weari- 
ness ; every night in anxiety and care. 
Not an hour was given him to share 
the amusements ’ of his fellow-citizens ; 
not an hour for the duties of hospi- 
tality ; not an hour for the quiet en- 
joyment of home. His whole time was 
claimed by the spirit of the gold mine ; 
and very heavy and monotonous was 
the task imposed upon him. If a child 
were forced to go on, hour after hour, 
casting up a sum the figures of which 
were innumerable, he might form some 
idea of the employment of Philargyr. 
His wealth was to him but as an end-* 
less sum, and his most successful en- 
terprises did but add some new figure 
to the account.' 


36 THE king’s messengers. 

Yet even this would give no just 
notion of his misery. He could not 
help believing the old man’s warning, 
though his whole life was at variance 
with his belief. He knew that his 
buried treasure would be worse than 
useless when the day of his exile ar- 
rived. The gates of the Glorious City 
would be closed against him, and end- 
less wanderings in the dreary wilder- 
ness were certain to succeed the pre- 
sent season of anxiety and toil. His 
heart often shrank within him, as he 
witnessed the averted looks of the 
Messengers of the Great King. They 
did not even offer to carry his treasures 
to the Royal Palace, for long experience 
had taught them that it was a waste 
of words to seek employment from 
Philargyr. Again and again had he 


THE king’s messengers. 37 

resolved to entrust them with some por- 
tion of his wealth, but the subtle chains 
of gold withheld his hand, and, while 
he was struggling against them, the 
opportunity passed by, and he deferred 
till the morrow his intended gift. 

While the eldest of the four brothers 
thus laboured incessantly for the spirit 
of the mine, the second was following 
a very different path. He was un- 
fettered by any chain of gold, and his 
bearing was high and noble ; his step 
firm and free. He looked down on 
his very riches with disdain, and they 
won him the envy and admiration of 
his fellow-citizens instead of their pity 
and contempt. But while, in every 
other respect, his conduct afforded a 
marked contrast to that of Philargyr, 
there was one important point in which 


38 


THE KING S MESSENGERS. 


he resembled him. He neglected alto- 
gether the old man’s warning. 

There was a district in Metoecia, far 
removed from the stir and traflSc of the 
crowded streets, and farther still from 
the dwellings of the King’s Messengers. 
It was remarkable for the beauty and 
costliness of its buildings. The erec- 
tion of these formed a favourite occu- 
pation of the tnore wealthy merchants. 
Their appearance was very irregular, 
for the size and form of each varied 
with the taste and resources of the 
individual who raised it. But all might 
be comprehended under two great 
classes. Some were frail and unsub- 
stantial, and intended to please the 
eye for one short summer, and then 
make way for others not less perisha- 
ble than themselves ; while some were 


THE king’s messengers. 39 

built of firm and durable materials, in 
the hope that they might stand for 
centuries as memorials of their archi- 
tects. The one class were for the most 
part called villas of Pleasure ; the other, 
towers of Fame. 

It was to the erection of one of these 
latter that Megacles devoted his vast 
wealth. The whole energy of his mind 
was given to this single object, and its 
gradual accomplishment was watched 
by his fellow-citizens with the most 
eager interest. The raising of the 
tower formed quite an epoch in the 
history of Metoecia. Wonderful stories 
were told of the^depth of its foundations 
and the thickness of its walls. Each 
of the vast stones seemed to have its 
own legend annexed to it, while the 
quarry from which they came, and 


40 


THE king’s messengers. 


the names of the workmen, and every 
detail connected with the building, 
were carefully preserved in the annals 
of the city. But all this I must pass 
over very briefly, for the King’s Mes- 
sengers had no share in the work ; and 
from this cause the whole narrative of 
the tower, which appeared so eventful 
to Megacles and his brother merchants, 
has but little interest in the present 
story. 

The whole soul of Megacles was ab 
sorbed in the erection of the building; 
— and these few words comprise his his- 
tory. He did not keep aloof from his 
fellow-citizens, but he made his inter- 
course with them subservient to this 
one object. If he visited the crowded 
streets, it was in order to select work- 
men of skill and strength. If he went 


THE king’s messengers. 


41 


into the market-place, it was to change 
his gold and jewels for blocks of marble 
and granite. His perseverance was re- 
warded, and his work prospered. Day- 
after day the tower increased in size 
and beauty. It was to no purpose 
that the wind and storm beat against 
it ; the firm foundations defied their 
power. The wreck of the surrounding 
buildings was made to assist its growth. 
Some of these had been left as frag- 
ments, in consequence of the sudden 
exile of their architects. Some were 
mouldering away with the lapse of 
time ; and some were purposely under- 
mined hy the workmen of Megacles. 
He selected from the ruins of each 
such stones as seemed suited for the 
accomplishment of his design ; until at 
length his tower rose so far above every 


42 THE king’s messengers. 

other in the city, that it appeared to 
stand by itself in sohtary grandeur. 

The more it grew, the more was the 
mind of INIegacles absorbed in its growth. 
It seemed to exercise a fascination over 
him, and from the day in which it be- 
came visible from every part of the city, 
his' eye was seldom withdrawn from 
it. This may in part account for his 
neglect of the King’s Messengers. His 
look was raised above them while he 
watched his tower. Even if they ven- 
tured to speak to him, their voices 
failed to arrest his attention ; for his 
ear had been so long filled with the din 
and tumult of building, that it had been 
rendered deaf to any gentler sound. 

Yet, notwithstanding his success, 
Megacles was not happy. He was 
perpetually changing or adding to his 



Megacles. 


Page 42 




THE king’s messengers. 43 

tower. It never seemed to have at- 
tained the perfection that he designed. 
He remembered also how the city of 
Metoecia was liable to the shock of 
earthquakes, so that at any moment 
the vast fabric might be shaken from 
its foundation, and reduced to a heap 
of ruins. Neither was this all. Even 
at those times in which he was able to 
view with unmingled satisfaction the 
tower itself, there was still a cloud upon 
his vision of glory. It had arisen, in the 
first instance, from the simple question 
of a poor wayfaring man. Megacles 
had observed him gaze earnestly at the 
building, and then turn aside, as though 
to conceal his tears. He could not 
help inquiring what train of thoughts 
it had called forth, to lead to such an 
expression of sorrow. There was a 


44 THE king’s messengers. 

strange sadness in the wayfarer’s re- 
ply. “ I was thinking,” he said, “ how 
long this vast tower was calculated to 
last.” “How long!” exclaimed Mega- 
cles, with indignant pride ; “ centuries 
on centuries will elapse, and there shall 
be no symptoms of decay.” “ And I 
was also thinking,” he continued, in the 
same melancholy tone, “ how long its 
possessor will remain within its walls I” 
The wayfarer had disappeared before 
Megacles could reply ; but the unwelcome 
words kept recurring to his mind in spite 
of every effort to suppress them. It was 
true that only half the period usually 
allotted to the merchants for their so- 
journ in Metcecia had as yet passed by ; 
but he knew that, at any moment, his 
sentence of exile might be pronounced, 
and that the strength of his tower would 


THE king’s messengers. 


45 


not delay its enforcement for a single 
hour. The warning of the old man 
now came back to his remembrance, 
and brought with it new feelings of^ 
disquietude and alarm. Where were - 
the immense riches that had been in- 
trusted to his care ? Had any portion 
of them been laid up in the Royal 
Palace ? Alas ! he shrank from the 
reply. He had not, indeed, buried 
them in the earth like Philargyr. On 
the contrary, he had often lavished 
them with an unsparing hand. But, 
while he had seldom failed to examine 
those who came for them on their health, 
their strength, and their skill in build- 
ing, he had forgotten the one only im- 
portant question, — ^he had never asked, 
whether they were Messengers of the 
Great King. 


46 THE king’s messengers. 

There was a time when, as these 
thoughts passed through the mind of 
Megacles, he half formed the resolu- 
tion of pulling down, stone by stone, 
the tower which he had raised, and 
giving the materials to the King’s Mes- 
sengers. But the dread of ridicule and 
pride of heart prevailed. He felt that 
he should incur the mockery of his 
brother merchants, if, after years of 
incessant labour, his own hand were to 
destroy the sole produce of his toil. 
He once more fixed his gaze stedfastly 
on the lofty building, and resolved to 
suppress every doubt and alarm. His 
efforts were at length successful. Not 
only did his former triumphant feeling 
return, but a yet more fatal delusion 
seized him. He fancied the story of 
the King’s Messengers, and the Royal 


THE king’s messengers. 


47 


Palace, and the Glorious City, to be a 
mere invention ; and maintained that 
^ notwithstanding the law of Exile, the 
only sure and lasting resting-place was 
to be found in the tower of Fame. 

Alas ! even while he was giving vent 
to these boastful words, his own sen- 
tence of exile had gone forth, and the 
bearer of the Royal Mandate was at 
hand. But we must leave him awhile, 
to follow the history of the two remain- 
ing brothers. 


King’s iUcsscngcrs. 


CHAPTER III. 


' Tie not the eye of keenest hlazo. 

Nor the qmck swelling hreaat. 

That soonest thrills at touch of praise : 

These do not please him beat 
But voices low and gentle, 

And timid glances shy. 

That seem for aid parental 
To sue all wistfully. 

OHBISTIAN TEAR 


The story of Euprepes, the third bro- 
ther, differs greatly from the two that 
have preceded it. The warning of the 
old man did not merely leave a trans- 
ient iihpression upon his mind, but 


THE king’s messengers. . 49 

gave a colouring to his whole course 
of action. He talked of it loudly and 
frequently to his fellow-citizens, and 
described, in affecting language, the 
wonderful vision which the mirror had 
disclosed. As soon as he received his 
share of his father’s wealth, he resolved 
to spend no portion on the pleasures of 
the city, but to transmit the whole to 
the King’s Palace. 

He did not fail to make public his 
intention ; and there was no lack of 
Messengers. First one, then another 
came, each with his own tale of poverty 
or distress, and each promising to carry 
safely the treasure committed to his 
trust. Euprepes gave to all alike with 
an unsparing hand ; but he soon grew 
weary of the monotony of the employ- 
ment. All went on quietly day after 


60 . THE king’s messengers. 

day. There was no interest or excite- 
ment. His proceedings were either un- 
observed or disregarded by the greater 
part of the inhabitants of the city. He 
fancied that this was, in part, the fault 
of his Messengers. As soon as they 
received his gifts, they used studiously 
to conceal them and shrink from the 
observation of those who met them in 
the streets. In order to prevent this, 
he directed that they should carry the 
bags of money openly in their hands, 
and from time to time give public 
notice of the object of their journey. 
Some few refused compliance, and were 
immediately dismissed his service. 

This expedient, in part, - succeeded. 
The Messengers were often seen and 
questioned, and more than one friend 
congratulated Euprepes on the store 


THE king’s messengers. 51 


he was laying up in the Royal Palace. 
Still, however, he was dissatisfied. He 
required something more than this. 
The _way of sending the money seemed 
to him out of keeping, both with the 
vastness of his wealth and with the 
important object for which it was sent. 
Bright visions would cross his mind 
of long triumphal processions through 
the streets of the city, and of shouts 
and acclamations attending their pro- 
gress. 

Now, while he was indulging these 
thoughts, a man in the garb of a herald 
stood before him. His form, at first, 
was dim and uncertain; but as the 
young merchant gazed upon it, it gra- 
dually increased in distinctness. He 
wore a gorgeous livery, and had a 
golden trumpet in his hand. He thus 

D2 


•52 


THE KING S MESSENGERS. 


addressed himself to Euprepes : — “ Your 
noble purpose has-been long known to 
me ; neither have you been remiss in 
carrying it into effect. But there is 
one thing which you have forgotten. 
Such wealth as yours should not be 
trusted to a few scattered Messengers, 
who wander, some here and some there, 
and hide themselves in the obscure 
corners of the city. You require the 
assistance of a herald to summon them 
all at a stated period, and then to 
marshall them in their ranks, and 
arrange the order of their procession. 
Let, then, that office be mine.” 

The whole complexion of the life of 
Euprepes was changed by this proposal. 
He at once adopted the herald’s sug- 
gestion, and the monotony of which 
he had complained passed away. From 


THE king’s messengehs. 53 

i 

henceforth his embassies to the Royal 
Palace excited no less interest in the 
city than the tower of Megacles, while 
they proved to himself a source of per- 
petual triumph. It will be suflScient to 
describe one of them ; for, though they 
seemed to his brother merchants to pre 
sent an endless variety of appearance, 
the principal features in all are in reality 
alike, and the first embassy that he sent 
will give a true view of his history. 

When the day for the grand proces- 
sion had been fixed, the herald sounded 
his trumpet, and proclaimed it far and 
wide through the streets of the city. 
In the meanwhile the young merchant 
collected many costly bales of merchan- 
dise, and exchanged a large quantity of 
jewels for silver and gold. As alj this 
was done publicly in the market-place, 


54 


THE king’s messengers. 


it tended greatly to increase the general 
interest. The doors of his own mansion 
were closed, and the few sohtary Mes- 
sengers who came to them, from time 
to time, were dismissed with orders to 
return together on the day announced 
by the herald. 

On the appointed morning the win- 
dows of the neighbouring houses were 
thronged with spectators. Presently 
the crowd thickened in the street, until 
the whole of it was blocked up by 
persons professing to be King’s Mes- 
sengers. So vast was the concourse 
that many a poor widow and orphan 
struggled in vain to pass through it, 
and returned sadly to their own homes 
without once obtaining a sight of the 
dwelhng of Euprepes. At midday the 
young merchant appeared. He was at- 


THE king’s messengers. 55 

tended by a splendid retinue of friends ; 
near him were the bales of goods and 
the gold and silver which he was about 
to distribute, but nearer still was the 
herald, who never failed to keep closely 
to his side. The sun shone fully upon 
them ; and as its rays were reflected 
back by their bright apparel and the 
golden trumpet and the precious metals 
that lay scattered upon the ground, the 
air was rent with the ’ acclamations of 
the assembled multitudes. 

After the shouts had continued some 
minutes, the herald proclaimed silence ; 
and Euprepes, taking coins of various 
sizes from the heaps at his side, scat- 
tered them indiscriminately among the 
people. A scene of fearful confusion 
followed, while each Messenger strug- 
gled for his share. Many of the most 


56 THE king’s messengers. 

weak and sickly were crushed and 
trodden under foot. The young mer- 
chant could see but a small portion of 
their sufferings, yet even that gave rise 
to painful thoughts ; but the whisperings 
from within were quickly suppressed by 
the loud voice of the herald, as he pro- 
claimed “Hasten, hasten, ye Messen- 
gers ; gather up the treasures of Eu- 
prepes the merchant, which he bids you 
bear to the distant Palace of the Great 
King.” 

It was not until the vast stores which 
Euprepes had provided for the occasion 
_ were exhausted, that the tumult ceased. 
And then the herald arranged the Mes 
sengers in a long procession, that they 
might march publicly through the city. 
It was a strange sight to see that troop 
of miserable objects, moving along to 


THE king’s messengers. 57 

the sound of a trumpet, with all the 
external signs of triumph and joy. 
The misery of their general appearance 
formed, for the most part, a singular 
contrast to the costly burthens which 
they bore. Many of them seemed con- 
scious of this, and shrank instinctively 
from the observation of their fellows ; 
but none were permitted to desert the 
order of march ; and ever, as the}’- ad- 
vanced onward, the voice of the herald 
proclaimed louder and louder, “ Behold, 
yb citizens', behold the riches of Eupre- 
pes, which he sends before him to the 
distant Palace of the Great King. 

The procession was so arranged as to 
be kept continually within view of the 
young merchant. He watched its course 
through the market-place, and up and 
down the principal streets of the city. 


58 


THE king’s messengers. 


From the point at which he stood he 
could hear distinctly the shouts of the 
populace and the proclamation of the 
herald ; and there he remained, watch- 
ing and listening, until the shades of 
evening closed in, and the reality was 
lost in a bright and beautiful dream. 
For in the visions of the night proces- 
sion after procession continued to pass 
before him ; they were all laden with 
costly offerings for the Royal Palace, — 
some of silver and gold, some of bales 
of merchandise, some of glorious ap- 
parel, — but they kept moving round 
and round the city, and with the in- 
consistency of a dream it did not seem 
strange to Euprepes that, though bound 
on a distant journey, they never passed 
beyond its walls. ' 

Such was the general aspect of the 


THE king’s messengers. 59 

processions of Euprepes. Some ex- 
ceeded others in pomp and magnifi- 
cence ; but each was proclaimed by the 
same trumpet, and set in order by the 
same herald; so that, as I before said, 
one description will suffice for them 
aU. 

Meanwhile, his resources seemed 
inexhaustible. It was as though his 
treasure kept returning to himself, and 
the more he gave the more he had to 
bestow. Of all the brothers he was 
by far the most popular ; his sojourn in 
the city was cheered alike by the 
praises of the rich and the blessings of 
the poor. There were, indeed, some 
who murmured and repined, but their 
complaints were drowned by the trum- 
pet of the herald, and never reached 
the ears of Euprepes. He believed 


60 THE king’s messengers. 

himself to be idolized by all within the 
city, at the same time that he was 
laying up for himself an inexhaustible 
store of wealth beyond its walls. Some- 
times his feelings were those of quiet 
self-complacency, sometimes of joyous 
triumph ; but they were rarely over- 
clouded by the slightest shadow of 
doubtfulness or alarm. The pursuits 
of his elder brothers were regarded by 
him with a kind of contemptuous com- 
passion. He would often stand in the 
bright sunshine on the rising ground 
where his house was built, and point in' 
derision to the tower of Megacles, or 
describe with bitterness the yet sadder 
slavery of Philargyr ; and then follow- 
ing with his eye the long train of his 
own Messengers, he would conclude by 
saying, “ I, too, have my tower, but it 


THE king’s messengers. 61 

is built on a surer foundation; I, too, 
have my treasures, but I have sent them 
to a safer home!” 

The story of the fourth brother I 
cannot tell, for but little is known of 
his history. He did not resemble 
either Philargyr or Megacles, for he 
neither toiled and laboured for the spirit 
of the ' gold mine, nor built for himself 
a tower of fame ; and yet he was also 
unlike Euprepes, for no herald attended 
him on his walks, and there was no 
array of Messengers to be seen contin- 
ually at his door. Much of his time 
was passed in seclusion. His occu- 
pations were unknown ; and he sojourn- 
ed in the city of Metoecia as one who 
scarcely belonged to it. Those who 
watched with the greatest interest the 


62 


THE king’s messengers. 


different pursuits of the three elder 
brothers, were gradually led to forget 
the very existence of Sophron. There 
was no great event to mark it or force 
it upon their attention. At one time, 
indeed, he did excite a momentary sen- 
sation. He left the quarter of the city 
inhabited by the wealthy merchants, 
and made choice of a more lowly 
mansion, surrounded by the dwellings 
of the poor. His motives even for this 
change were never discovered. Some 
ascribed it to avarice, some to want. 
But it soon ceased to be a topic of con- 
versation ; and he was consigned to 
greater obscurity than before. 

To the few friends who continued to 
visit him in his retirement, he was 
always kind and hospitable ; but there 
was a mystery about his way of life 


THE king’s messengers. 


63 


which they were unable to penetrate. 
As time went on, he stiU seemed to 
grow poorer and poorer. Some secret 
drain appeared to exhaust his wealth. 
No sign of luxury was seen- in his 
abode ; his dress was changed for one 
of less costly materials; and his diet 
was of the simplest kind. All this was 
of itself strange, but there was some- 
thing yet more unaccountable in the 
effect that it had upon Sophron himself. 
Every day his step grew hghter, and 
his countenance more full of joy. The 
look of depression ‘and anxiety which 
during the days of his abundance he 
had at times worn, was now never seen 
upon his brow. One would have ima- 
gined that it was not his wealth, but 
some heavy burthen that had been 
taken away from him, — he became so 


64 THE king’s messengers. 

light and cheerful under its removal. 
When questioned as to the cause of 
this, he would sometimes answer by a 
smile, sometimes by a tear ; and there 
were those who said that, though the 
smile of Sophron never failed to make 
the heart rejoice, his tear was yet more 
full of gladness than his smile. 

The young merchant was really poor. 
The cause of his poverty, like the rest 
of his history, was buried in obscurity ; 
but, whatever became of his money, it 
did not, like that of Euprepes, keep 
returning to him again. The praise of 
men never gilded his deeds of self- 
sacrifice, neither did earthly glory shed 
its brightness upon his path. And yet, 
after all, his lowly dwelling was not 
without its beautiful legend. There 
were some who could tell how, in the 


THE king’s messengers. 65 

dim twilight, or in the still hour of 
night, they had seen the train of Royal 
Messengers moving stealthily from his 
door. They were not arranged in ranks, 
like those sent by Euprepes. Every in- 
dividual walked alone. And yet it was 
clear that all formed part of the same 
long procession, for each had his left 
hand muflled closely in his garments, 
while with the right he pointed to the 
East to mark the direction of his 
journey. Slowly and silently, one by 
one, they moved onward through the 
least frequented streets of the city. 
Not a footfall was heard as they passed 
along. At length they reached the 
Eastern gate. It was closed against 
them, but, like a long line of shadows, 
the procession still continued its un 
swerving course, and, passing straight 


66 THE king’s messengers. 

through the opposing barrier, were lost 
in the darkness beyond. 

These things were not, indeed, re- 
ported publicly in the city. Few of 
the wealthy merchants had heard them 
at all, and fewer still believed them. 
Those who witnessed them felt their 
voices hushed by the solemnity of the 
scene. Its silence seemed, as it were, 
to rest upon them ; and they could 
only whisper of it from ear to ear, or 
meditate upon it quietly in their own 
homes. And when they asked them- 
selves with a thrill of eager interest, 
whither that long procession had gone, 
a voice within them would reply, “ It 
is gone far, far beyond the bound- 
aries of the city, — the barriers were 
unable to arrest its progress, — and it 
now bears the treasures 6f Sophron 


' THE king’s messengers. 67 

to the distant Palace of the Great 
King.” 

Such was the legend ; but there is one 
part of it which yet remains to be told. 
It was said that when the few, who had 
witnessed the secret procession, returned 
to the street in which the merchant 
lived, they perceived his doorway to be 
strewed with pearls, whUe an amber 
light shone around his dwelling, and 
strains of gentle music were heard from 
within its walls. So soft was that 
light, that it seemed but to shed its 
colouring on the surrounding darkness 
— so quiet that music, that the stillness 
of the night was unbroken by the sound. 
They stood gazing at a distance. They 
were afraid to venture near, lest, like a 
scene of enchantment, it should vanish 
from their view ; and there was a fasci- 

£3 


68 THE king’s messengers. 

nation in it, which would not suffer 
them to depart. The eye never grew 
weary of watching that lovely radiance, 
nor the ear of hstening to that celestial 
melody. At length the sun arose, and 
then the vision passed away ; or rather, 
though the soft light and quiet music 
never ceased to bless the house of So- 
phron, they could not be seen and 
heard in the glare and turmoil of the 
day. The pearls also were no longer 
visible. There were some, indeed, 
who fancied they could still perceive 
them ; but, when they stooped to gather 
them, they found only the drops of 
morning dew which lay upon the 
ground. 


King’0 Mfsscngera. 


CHAPTER IV. 

t 

W e "barter life for pottage : sell true bliss 
For -wealth or power, for pleasure or reno-wn ; 

Thus, Esau-like, our Father’s blessing miss, f 
Then wash -with fruitless tears our faded cro-wn. 

OHBISTIAN TEAR. 

Days, months, and years rolled on in 
the same unvaried course. Philargyr 
continued to toil and labour, and every 
hour gathered in fresh riches for his 
insatiable master. Megacles received 
- early the sentence of Exile, but his 
to"wer remained as his memorial in the 
city. Euprepes still dazzled the eyes 


70 THE king’s messengers. 

of the multitude by his costly gifts and 
gorgeous processions. Sophron alone 
lived a life of obscurity. The wealth, 
the fame, and the liberality of the three 
elder brothers, had severally passed into 
a proverb. Many were the discussions 
concerning their conduct and character ; 
for in spite of the contempt in which 
Philargyr was generally held, even he 
had his tribe of flatterers and partisans, 
and it was remarked that their number 
increased as the time of his banishment 
drew near. But no allusion was made 
to the law of Exile in any of the con- 
versations concerning the brothers. I 
have already accounted for this silence. 
Notwithstanding the King’s warnings, 
the citizens, for the most part, were ac- 
customed to regard Metoecia as their 
lasting dwelling-place. It seemed as 




Philargyr 


Page 71. ' 



THE king’s messengers. 71 

though some heavy mist were resting 
upon them ; and their low range of 
thought was bounded by the narrow 
circuit of their own walls. 

A protracted sojourn in the city fell 
to the portion of PhUargyr, though the 
progress of time served only to increase 
the burthen of his servitude. He was 
carrying a heavy load of gold to the 
secret mine, and toiling and groaning 
beneath its weight, when the old man 
met him on his way. For a moment, 
he gazed stedfastly on the weary mer- 
chant, and then with a smile of bitter 
irony offered to relieve him. Philargyr 
trembled. He endeavoured at first to 
persuade himself that it was but a re- 
appearance of the same image which he 
had seen in the mirror ; but his limbs 
tottered, and his cheek grew pale, and 


72 THE king’s messengers. 

there was a numbness at his heart, 
which convinced him that the actual 
form of the old man now stood before 
him, and he could not doubt the nature 
of the message which he bore. 

At length, in much terror and per- 
plexity, and scarcely conscious of the 
meaning of his own words, he thus ad- 
dressed him : — “ Stranger,” he cried, 
“if, indeed, thou art charged with the 
sentence of Exile, leave me yet a little 
while. I have great treasure in this 
city. Wait till my camels and asses 
are laden, and my slaves with their 
bags of gold are ready to accompany 
us, and then we will hasten on our 
journey.” 

But the stranger replied, and the 
cold, stern accents fell as ice on the 
heart of PhUargyr, — “ Oh, merchant, 


THE king’s messengers. 73 

what vain words are these ! You know 
well that whoever travels with me 
travels alone. Your camels and asses, 
your slaves, your silver, and your gold 
cannot accompany us. The wealth that 
you have sent beforehand to the Royal 
Palace is now your own ; but all that 
remains in the city is lost to you for 
ever.” 

Then did the vision in the mirror 
rise in distinct and fearful remem- 
brance to the mind of Philargyr. It 
was but mockery to speak to him of 
treasure sent beforehand to the Royal 
Palace. The accumulated gains of his 
many years of labour were all stored 
■^up in the fatal mine. He had counted 
them over but yesterday ; not a single 
coin was missing — all were there. Now 
as he thought of this, he turned his 


74 THE king’s messengers. 

eyes imploringly to the old man ; but 
in a moment he again averted his gaze, 
for he perceived him to be no longer 
alone. A dark and terrible crowd of 
attendants were ranged around. They 
were armed with scourges of iron, 
which they raised on high, as though 
ready at any moment to drive him 
forth into the dreary wilderness that 
lay beyond the city. 

At length, he cried out in accents 
of mingled fear and remorse, “ Alas ! 

O stranger, hitherto I have neglected ' 
your warning. The whole of my wealth 
is still within the city. But, surely, 
you yourself are a King’s Messenger ! 
Have compassion, then, upon me, and 
even now bear it quickly to the Royal 
Palace.” 

But the old man replied, “You ask 


THE king’s messengers. 75 

what cannot be. I am indeed a King’s 
Messenger, but I bear no treasure with 
me to the Royal Palace ; for all things 
change at my touch, and crumble 
into decay. Those charged with that 
office have been with you long ago, — 
the poor, the afflicted, and the in- 
firm ; — they would have conveyed your 
riches thither, if you had not driven 
them empty-handed from your door.” 
Darker and more terrible grew the 
train of the old man’s followers, as 
Philargyr listened to these fearful 
words. Once more the iron scourges 
were raised on high ; but the unhappy 
merchant, in a voice of the deepest 
misery, implored the respite of a single 
day. 

“ To-morrow,” he said, “ to-morrow, 
all shall be in readiness. I will even 


76 


THE king’s messengers. 


now summon the ’ King’s Messengers, 
and send the whole of my wealth be- 
yond the walls of the city. Spare me, 
if it be but for a few hours. Your 
coming was unlooked for, and there- 
fore it has found me unprepared.” 

“It is false,” replied the old man, 
sternly. “ My coming has been very 
slow and gradual. During the still 
hours of the night, you heard, one by 
one, the sound of my footsteps, while 
I was yet at a distance from the city. 
Your hmbs grew feeble, and your hair 
grey, and your heart dull and cold ; 
and you knew well that these signs 
preceded the approach of the last 
Messenger of the Great King. Each 
warning made you struggle, for a little 
while, to separate yourself from your 
gold. But it held you in bonds; and 


THE king’s messengers. 


77 


you could not set yourself free. If I 
were to leave you now, the result 
would be the same. You would go on 
clinging to your riches, or rather they 
woifld go on clinging to you, even if 
you were suffered to remain whole cen- 
turies in the city.” 

Philargyr felt that the old man’s 
words were but too fearfully true. He 
had for many years been expecting 
the bearer of the Royal Mandate. So 
slow had been his approach, that days, 
weeks, and months, seemed to mark the 
interval of each succeeding step. Time 
had been thus allowed for the gradual 
removal of all his wealth. The appoint- 
ed Messengers had repeatedly called 
for it ; but after a faint effort to give it 
them, he had sent them away till the 
morrow. And the cause of this was, as 


78 


, » 

THE KING S MESSENGERS. 

I have said, the chain of gold which 
had been twined round his hands by the 
spirit of the mine. It had been light 
and fragile once, but it was a magic 
chain, which grew more firm and mas- 
sive with the lapse of years. The time 
had been, when the captive, by one 
vigorous struggle, might have set him- 
self free. But each weak and unsuc- 
cessful effort served only to increase its 
strength ; and the links had become 
so firmly riveted, that his own hand 
was all too feeble to dissolve them 
now. 

The unhappy merchant had, as we 
have seen, long bent beneath the weight 
of this chain ; but he now perceived it 
for the first time, as it was wrenched 
asunder by the iron grasp of the stran- 
ger’s hand ; and in a moment, he was 


THE king’s messengers. 79 

parted for ever from his vast wealth, 
and, while the scourges fell heavily 
upon him, driven forth as an exile be- 
yond the walls of the city. 

We will now leave Philargyr, and 
bring to a close the story of Megacles. 
A no less sad and fearful picture awaits 
us there. He was, as I have said, sum- 
moned ea,rly, and the day of his exile 
followed close on the warning of the 
wayfaring man. But I have thought 
it better to make no change in the order 
of his history. 

The old man found him in all the 
fulness of his strength. He was ar- 
rayed in purple and costly apparel, and 
stood gazing with an eye of pride on 
the tower which he had raised. A 
crowd of eager partisans were gathered 


80 THE king’s messengers. 

around. The bearer of the Royal 
Mandate passed through the midst of 
them, with a slow and silent step ; and 
his finger had long pointed to Mega- 
cles, before he himself became aware 
of his approach. It was the looks 
of those who stood around, which first 
warned him that the day of his exile 
had arrived. 

No sooner, however, did he become 
conscious of the old man’s presence, 
than he endeavoured to face him with 
an undaunted air. “ Stranger,” he 
said boldly, “ your summons to me 
is vain. I ask no dwelling-place in 
the Glorious City. Here, in Metoecia, 
have I built myself a tower ; and 
here, in Metoecia, shall be my lasting 
home.” There was a shout of applause 
from the surrounding multitude ; but 


THE king’s messengers. 81 

the old man neither spoke nor moved. 
Coldly and stedfastly he gazed upon 
the merchant, until the proud spirit 
of Megacles quailed beneath his look, 
and the boastful words seemed to 
wither on his lips, while every limb 
was shaken with convulsive terror. 
He turned away his face from the un- 
welcome Messenger, and endeavoured 
to gather new courage from the con- 
templation of his tower of Fame. But 
there was a haze which now encircled 
it ; it appeared to be already fading in 
the distance ; and he could hardly dis- 
tinguish the building itself from its 
long dark shadow which rested upon 
the ground. 

At length, the old man broke the 
silence : — “ It is ever thus, O mer- 
chant ! the objects in this city become, 


82 


THE king’s messengers. 


for the most part, the same with their 
shadows, when I approach them. But 
take my glass, and you will once more 
behold distinctly the budding that you 
have raised.” As he said this, he held 
out a glass to Megacles. The merchant 
took it, almost unconsciously. For a 
moment he looked through it, and 
then, with a cold shudder, suffered it 
to fall from his hand. His lofty tower 
had dwindled into a sepulchre, when 
seen through the glass which the 
stranger had given him. But diminu- 
tive as it now appeared, there was an 
inscription engraved distinctly upon 
it; and he had read only too plainly 
these fatal words : — “ Here lie the 
garments which Megacles once wore.” 

“Yes,” said the old man, with a 
smile of scorn, “it is not for yourself 


THE king’s messengers. 83 


that you have raised this lofty tower, 
but for the garments which you wear ! 
They shall remain in the city, and rest 
beneath it, until the moth and worm 
have eaten them away. But for your- 
self you have prepared no dwelling- 
place, and you will be driven forth a 
homeless wanderer in the wilderness.” 

The last feeling of self-confidence 
now died away from the heart of Mega- 
cles. Instead of the crowd of eager 
partisans, he saw only the same gloomy 
attendants, which afterwards appeared 
to Philargyr. He felt that his tower 
would avail him nothing; and that, if 
the gates of the Royal City were closed 
against him, no hope of safety could 
remain. The past rose in bitter re- 
membrance before him ; and, as he 

thought over the numerous workmen 
Fa 


84 THE king’s messengers. 

that he had employed on his building, 
he tried to recollect some one among 
the number who might prove to have 
been a Messenger of the Great King. 

The effort, however, was vain ; and 
the secret feeling of his heart belied 
his words, as he advanced a claim to 
treasure in the Royal Palace. “ Stran- 
ger,” he said, “ I have not altogether 
neglected the warning which you gave. 
My riches are not buried in a mine ; I 
have dispersed them far and near, and 
know not whither they are gone. Some 
perhaps may have remained within the 
city, but surely some portion must have 
escaped beyond its walls. If the King’s 
Messengers came to me they received 
their share with the rest : I never wil- 
fully drove them away. Oh tell me, 
then, that there is some treasure pre- 


THE king’s messengers. 85 

pared for me in the Royal Palace, and 
that the gates of the Glorious City 
will not be closed against me for 
ever.” 

But the old man pointed to the tower 
as he replied, “ Behold, Megacles, the 
one only monument of your wealth ; it 
is there, and there alone, that all who 
received your wages or your gifts de- 
posited their , burthens. You yourself 
never failed to point it out to them as 
the object of their journey. But neither 
is this all ; the King’s Messengers, 
though you knew them not, did indeed 
come to you among the rest. They 
were weak and helpless, and you loaded 
them with vast blocks of marble and 
granite, which they were unable to bear. 
Many sank beneath their burthens ; 
others were crushed and maimed by 


86 THE king’s messengers. 

stones falling from the building. It is 
true that their groans and lamentations 
never reached you. They were drowned 
by the noise and tumult which accom- 
panied the erection of your to^wer. But 
the cries of the King’s Messengers are 
carried by each passing wind to the 
Royal Palace, and are heard and re- 
membered there.” 

Megacles would fain have replied, but 
no time was allowed him for further 
words. The stranger touched him with 
his icy hand, and in an instant the dark 
attendants had stripped him of his 
raiment, and driven him with their 
scourges from the city. There were 
few who wept for his. sudden departure, 
for Megacles was not loved; but his 
admirers and partisans gathered up his 
purple garments, and deposited them 


THE king’s messengers. 


87 


carefully beneath the tower. In a little 
while the moth and the worm had con- 
sumed them there ; while the tower 
itself continued to stand for many ages, 
—a vain memorial of the spot where 
they had been laid. 


3ri)c King ’0 illtssmgers 


CHAPTER V. 


There are intMa loud, stninning tide 
Of human care and crime, 

With "whom the melodies abide 
Of th’ everlasting chime ; 

Who carry music in their heart 
Through dusky lane and wranghng mart. 
Plying their daily task with busier feet. 

Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat. 

OHBISTIA.N TEAR. 


Euprepes saw the sentence of exile 
passed on both his elder brothers, and 
spoke with much eloquence of the 
misery of their fate. For himself, he 
said that he had long since been fully 


THE king’s messengers. 89 

prepared to depart; all his treasures 
had been sent before him to the Royal 
Palace ; and he was only anxious for 
the time when they would be restored 
to him again. Sometimes he would 
complain to his friends of the long delay 
of the' bearer of the Royal Mandate, and 
declare that he was even then listening 
for his footstep, and would advance to 
welcome him at the first warning of his 
approach. 

The stranger tarried long; but when 
he did come, the reality proved very 
different from the anticipations of Eu- 
prepes. In spite of himself, he was 
conscious of a sensation. of fear. First a 
strange darkness seemed to fall on the 
objects around him. Then doubts and 
misgivings flitted like shadows across 
his mind ; and the vision of the future, 


90 


THE king’s messengers. 


as well as of the past and present, 
was arrayed in less bright colouring 
than before. He advanced to meet the 
old man, but it was with the unsteady 
step of one walking in a mist ; he 
addressed him in bold words of wel- 
come, but it was with a faltering 
voice, as though he felt doubtful of 
the reply. 

“ At length,” he said, “ thou hast 
arri-^-ed ! But wherefore didst thou 
tarry so long ? Was it that thy journey 
was delayed by the frequent train of 
Messengers that met thee on thy way ? 
They were bearing my silver and my 
gold, my jewels and my merchandise, 
to the Great Monarch whom thou ser- 
vest. I have much wealth laid up for 
me in his Palace. Come, then, let us 
hasten thither.” 


THE king’s messengers. 91 

But the old man offered no reply; 
he merely fixed his cold, searching gaze 
upon the merchant; and while he did 
so, it seemed as though some terrible 
object rose up between them ; and the 
shadow feU yet more darkly on the 
mind of Euprepes. He tried in vain 
to suppress his feelings of anxiety and 
alarm ; they kept following one another 

like the waves of a troubled sea. At 

% 

length he was forced to give way to 
them, and once more spoke to the old 
man, but with words of less confidence 
than before. “ Stranger,” he said, 
“ from whence is this sensation of 
secret terror ! I had ^looked to your 
coming as a time of sunshine and joy. 
Where are the good tidings that you 
have in store for me ? Do not imagine 
that, like Megacles and Philargyr, I 


92 THE king’s messengers. 

have neglected your warning. My 
wealth has been distributed among the 
King’s Messengers. Week after week, 
in long procession, they left my door. 
Surely, surely, you must have seen 
many bags of gold and bales of mer- 
chandise in the Royal Palace, with the 
name of Euprepes written upon them!” 

The old man replied, or rather, per- 
haps, though the words seemed to come 
from him, it was the thoughts of Eu- 
prepes which made answer to them- 
selves : — 

“ Oh merchant ! from the city in 
which you dwell to the land inhabited 
by the Great King, is a long and 
dangerous journey. It is true that 
many a Messenger has of ’late trodden 
it in safety, and rich and precious were 
the burthens which they bore. But a 


THE king’s messengers. 93 

simple cross was the only mark either 
on the bags of gold or the bales of 
merchandise. If, therefore, the name of 
Euprepes was written upon yours, the 
whole of them must have been lost.” 

“Lost! lost!” exclaimed the un- 
happy man, in a voice of agony j “ Nay, 
it cannot be. The embassies were so 
frequent and numerous that some, at • 
least, must have arrived : and even if it 
be otherwise, the whole city is a wit- 
ness that I sent them. The air was 
rent with acclamations as they passed 
along ; and far and near you could hear 
the voices of those who cried, ‘ This is 
the wealth of Euprepes, which he sends 
before him to the distant Palace of the 
Great King.’ ” 

“ It is not such sounds as those,” 
replied the old man,' “ which ever reach 


94 THE king’s messengers. 

the Royal Palace; they are lost in the 
din and tumult of the city, or heard 
only by the enemies of the King. But 
tell me, Euprepes; are you a merchant, 
and do you not know that those riches 
are moved most securely which are sent 
in secrecy and silence ? If you had 
wished merely to transfer your pos- 
sessions to a house in a neighbouring 
street, should you, in the first instance, 
have paraded them before your door, 
and told the bearers to display them 
openly to all who met them on their 
way? Surely, if you had done this, 
and they had been intercepted by 
thieves and robbers, the fault would 
have been your own.” 

Euprepes could make no reply ; and 
yet he murmured something of a hope 
that the soldiers of the Great King 


THE king’s messengers. 95 

would not have suffered the Messengers 
to be plundered on their journey. But 
the old man, in a sterner voice, thus 
continued to address him : — 

“ I will tell you, Euprepes, what has 
become of your wealth. There is an 
enchanter that, dwells in this city ; his 
name is Pride, and he is an enemy of 
the Great King. He it was who sent 
the herald to summon the Messengers 
to your door. The sound of his trum- 
pet never fails to change the purest gold 
and silver into brass and glittering tinsel. 
These were the offerings that you really 
sent ; but even these did not reach the 
destination for which you intended them. 
The enchanter wove his magic circles 
round the feet of your Messengers, so 
that they followed one another in the 



96 


THE king’s messengers. 


same endless track, without ever ad- 
vancing one step upon their journey.” 

A new and fearful light now burst 
upon the mind of Euprepes. He re- 
membered how, in the visions of the 
night, he had continually seen the long 
processions moving round and round. 
Never for a moment had he lost sight 
of them in the distance, or formed a 
wish to trace their course beyond the 
city. Alas ! in these dreams , he had 
seen but the image of his actual Mes- 
sengers, though it was the enchanter 
who placed before his eyes the glass in 
which they appeared. His head grew 
dizzy, and his heart sick, as they rose 
to his remembrance ; but he still made 
one last effort to lay claim to a recom- 
pense from the Great King. 

“ It was gold,” said he, — “ it was pure 


THE king’s messengers. 97 

gold that I gave ; and, though it may 
have been changed and rendered worth- 
less, to me at least it was of real value. 
If it failed to purchase for me an inhe- 
ritance in the Royal Palace, it surely 
ought to have been restored to me again. 
Philargyr hoarded his vast wealth ; Me- 
gacles built with his a tower of F ame ; 
mine alone has been unprofitably spent, 
and brought me no recompense within 
the city, and yet none beyond its walls.” 

“ Merchant,” replied the old man, 
“You know well that you have long 
since had your reward. The applause 
of your fellow-citizens fell like a golden 
shower upon your path ; and their good- 
will and gratitude have been to you as 
bales of costly merchandise. It was 
thus that the wealth, which you pro- 
fessed to give, never ceased to come back 
o 


98 THE king’s messengers. 

to you again. Like Philargyr, you did 
but traffic with your possessions, and 
they brought you in a full and abun- 
dant return. Your tower, also, hke 
that of Megacles, is built within the city. 
It is true that your own hands have 
not laboured in its erection, but day by 
day you have stood watching it in secret, 
and listened to the shouts and accla- 
mations which marked its growth. It 
may, perhaps, have seemed to you to 
be rising afar off in the territory of the 
Great King ; but this delusion was 
caused by the same enchanter who sent 
you the herald. He spread a mist before 
your eyes, which made an object appear 
to be in the distance which was really 
near at hand. Your range of sight has 
never passed beyond the boundaries of 
the city ; every hope and wish of your 


THE king’s messengers. 


99 


heart has been confined within it, and 
there also was your treasure and your 
home.” 

Then did the attendants with the 
iron scourges seize upon Euprepes, and 
strip him of his garments ; and he, too, 
was driven forth into the dreary wilder* , 
ness. But the scourges were unseen^^ 
by those who witnessed his departure^-^ 
neither could they hear the fearful ^ 
words in which the sentence. of exile 
was conveyed. And so it was, that, 
after he was gone, the long train of his 
Messengers continued to parade the 
streets ; while the false herald with the 
golden trumpet proclaimed far and near 
that the happy exile had been received 
within the gates of the Glorious City, 
and that all his treasures had been 
restored to him there. 


100 THE king’s messengers. 


Such was the fearful history of the 
three elder brothers. It is a relief to 
turn aside from it, and seek a resting- 
place in Sophron’s lowly dwelling. He 
had wept bitterly for their exile, but he 
did not, like Euprepes, make a display 
of his compassion, or boast of his own 
readiness to depart. His tears had 
flowed in secret, and his hopes also 
were cherished in the solitude of his 
own bosom. Every day he put his 
little room in readiness for the stranger’s 
coming, and was so constantly pre- 
paring for it that he may be almost 
said to have lived in his immediate 
presence. Yet he, like the rest, was 
conscious of some change of feeling 
when his actual summons arrived. 

He was at that time enjoying the 
quiet beauty of the evening hour. It 


THE king’s messengers. 101 

mattered not that a vase with a few 
autumnal flowers was the only orna- 
ment of his humble abode ; and that 
the flame burnt faint and feebly in the 
solitary lamp which was standing at 
their side. Sophron could not reaUy be 
in darkness, poverty, or alone ; for, as 
the shades of night closed in, the pearls 
appeared upon his threshold, the soft 
music spoke to him as a companion, 
and the amber light shed its radiance 
around. His heart was full of gratitude , 
for these blessings, when a mingled 
feeling of awe and sadness stole upon 
him, and it seemed as though some 
shadow were moving along the wall. 
Every object changed as the dark out- 
line feU upon it ; — the flame of the soli- 
tary lamp burned even more dimly than 
before, and the autumnal flowers began 


102 THE king’s messengers. 

to wither and decay. It needed not 
these signs to warn Sophron that it 
was the same figure that had appeared 
in the mirror. For a while he watched 
it with a calm and stedfast gaze ; pre- 
sently a sensation of weariness stole 
upon him, his thoughts grew confused 
and indistinct, and at length he sank 
m a state of partial unconsciousness 
upon the ground. 

When he again opened his eyes, the 
old man was standing at his side. No 
gloomy attendants were near, but he 
held a mirror in his hand. Beneath it 
were the words — “ This is the image 
of the Past.” The scene which it 
reflected was one that had been long 
familiar to Sophron, and he did not 
shrink from beholding it now. From 
time to time soft shadowy forms moved 



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SOPHRON. 


Page lUcl 






THE king’s messengers. 103 

across the glass ; they were, doubtless, 
the images of the King’s Messengers ; 
but the eye of Sophron did not for a 
moment rest upon them, for ever as 
they appeared, his thoughts wandered 
to the Royal Palace and Glorious City. 

At- length the old man addressed 
him. “ Oh ! merchant,” he said, “ how 
is this ? All signs of wealth and 
luxury are wont to vanish at my pre- 
sence, but it is not so with thy abode. 
Even as I crossed the threshold of 
thy door, pearls of inestimable value 
were scattered upon the ground. They 
can be no part of the treasure of this 
city; for, when I trod silently upon 
them, they were not sullied by my step, 
but only shone with a purer brightness 
than before!” 

“ Stranger,” replied Sophron, “ I 


104 THE king’s messengers. 

cannot tell. You say truly that they 
are no part of the treasure of the city. 
The whole of my father’s vast wealth 
could not have purchased one of them. 
They are as the pearls of the far East, 
and I have looked upon them as gifts 
from the Great King; but I know not 
what hand has scattered them thus 
plenteously at the threshold of my door.” 

He had hardly finished speaking, 
when a shadowy form moved across 
the mirror, and there was a voice from 
thence which said, “ I was a widow, 
poor and destitute, but a Messenger of 
the Great King. I went to Philargyr 
for relief, and he told me that his 
money was his own. I came to Sophron, 
and he spoke soft words of comfort, 
and ministered to my wants, and bade 
me take freely of his treasures, for it 


THE king’s messengers. 105 


was for my sake that the Great King 
had placed them in his hands. I wept 
with joy and gratitude when I left him ; 
and each tear has been changed by the 
Great King into a pearl, and remained 
to this hour on the threshold of his 
abode.” 

And the old man said, “ Oh ! mer- 
chant, from whence is this wonderful 
melody that I hear? Sure I am that 
none of the musicians in this city could 
produce such strains. Their harps lose 
their tunefulness, and their sweetest 
notes become harsh and discordant 
when I am standing near. But this 
music has some magic power. My 
presence only renders it more distinct 
and perfect than before, and even my 
own voice is moved into harmony by. 
the sound.” 


106 THE king’s messengers. 

“ Stranger,” replied Sophron, “ I can- 
not tell. You say truly that the music 
has a magic power, for it lends its own 
tunefulness to all around. To me it has 
long since breathed a spirit of harmony 
over the din and discord of this crowded 
city ; every care and anxiety has been 
changed and modulated by its sooth 
ing influence ; and the events of day 
after day have seemed to flow on in 
perpetual melody. But though the 
music has thus dwelt in my own home, 
and I have loved it, and listened to it 
with gladness, I believe it to be but 
the echo of a yet sweeter strain which 
is played afar off in some distant 
land.” 

Again there was a voice from the 
mirror ; its accents were low and tre- 
mulous, hke those of a little child, and 


THE king’s messengers. 107 

it said, “ I was an orphan, weak and 
friendless, but a Messenger of the Great 
King. I went to Megacles for succour, 
and he pointed to a block of marble, 
and bade me raise it on high : but my 
hands were too feeble for the task ; and 
then his attendants drove me away, and 
said there was no place for little chil- 
dren in the tower of Fame. I came to 
Sophron ; and he fed me and clothed 
me, and told me that the house in which 
he lived had been lent to him as a 
shelter for the orphan child. Every 
morning and evening I went in secret 
to the Great King, and carried with 
me each precious gift that I received 
from Sophron ; and he bade me take 
back to him in return the offering of a 
simple heart overflowing with gratitude 
and love. So it was that my looks and 


108 THE king’s messengers. 

^ words became to his home as a perpe- 
tual song; and this is the soft music 
which you hear within its walls.” 

And the old man said, “ TeU me, 
Sophron, from whence is this light that 
sheds its radiance on all around ? Sure 
I am that it belongs not to this city ; 
for night has thrown her dark mantle 
over its streets, and, even if it were 
otherwise, mists and chilling darkness 
are the signs of my approach. The 
flame of your own lamp grew more 
faint and feeble when my shadow first 
fell upon it, and is fast expiring now. 
Whence, then, is it that in thy dwelling 
there seems to be perpetual day ?” 

A soft slumber was stealing upon 
Sophron ; his eyes were already closed ; 
his voice was indistinct, and yet it 
sounded like happy music as for the 


THE king’s messengers. 109 

last time he replied, “ Stranger, I can- 
not tell. The light has indeed shone 
upon me ; nay, is shining upon me 
now. My eyes are closed, and I see it 
not ; but it is as the sunshine of the 
heart, and I feel it to be here. Whether 
it be a reality or a tfeautiful dream, I 
am conscious of its presence, though 
« I know not from whence it comes.” 

Then, for the third time, a voice 
proceeded from the mirror, as a sha- 
dowy form moved across it, and it said, 
“ I had been rich and prosperous, but 
a long sickness brought me^into po- 
verty and distress. I heard, the pro- 
clamation of Euprepes, and rriade a 
feeble effort to reach his door ; but the 
crowd, and the glare, and the noise of 
the trumpet overwhelmed me with fear 
and shame. I shrank back in silence, 


110 THE king’s messengers. 

and hid myself in the obscurity of my 
own solitary dwelling. Sophron sought 
me out and found me there. He 
tended me in my sickness and minis- 
tered to my wants, and bade me be of 
good cheer, for I had a secret store of 
wealth, even th^prayers and blessings 
of a poor man ; and, when I spoke to 
him of gratitude, he asked me to give 
him some portion of my treasure. Then 
did I remember that poverty and dis- 
tress had made me a Messenger of the 
Great King, and I hastened to the 
Royal Palace, and took with me thither 
my blessings and my prayers. The 
Great King received them from me, 
and shed them as rays of unchanging 
sunshine on the abode of Sophron, and 
from thence comes the amber light that 
yet lives within its walls.” 


THE king’s messengers. Ill 

There was a pause of a few seconds ; 
while Sophron appeared to be yielding 
more and more to the soothing influ- 
ence of sleep. And then the old man 
breathed softly upon him, and said, 
“ Thrice happy merchant ! Well, in- 
deed, hast thou traded with thy wealth ! 
Thou hast bartered thy perishable silver 
and gold for the widow’s gratitude, 
the orphan’s love, and the poor man’s 
prayer. Now that thou art going 
hence, these riches will follow thee. 
The costly pearls, the gentle music, and 
the amber light shall attend thee on 
thy journey even to the gates of the 
Glorious City. But a more abundant 
treasure, a more perfect harmony, and 
a light of brilliance unutterable, await 
thee there.” 

As he thus spoke, he placed a second 


112 


I , 

THE KING S MESSENGERS. 


mirror before the eyes of Sophron ; and 
though they now seemed to be sealed 
in slumber, a smile of joy and gladness 
played across his countenance. I can- 
not tell how bright and glorious was 
the vision that he saw. This alone 
I know, that the image of the Future 
was reflected in that glass, and that, 
as the old man held it, his own form 
faded away. For a moment there was 
a sound as of the rustling of many 
wings in the air, and then all was still- 
ness i^the dwelling of Sophron. 


On the morrow, the sun shone 
brightly upon the city ; — there was the 
usual hum of traffic and moving to 
and fro of the busy multitude* in the 
streets, though the lamp had been 
extinguished in Sophron’s abode, and 


THE king’s messengers. 113 

the aged merchant was gone. Very few 
of the passers-by noticed the deserted 
dwelling ; but the King’s Messengers 
wept as they beheld it from a distance, 
and there was a strain of sadness in the 
gentle music of the orphan child. They 
mourned, because their own office was 
at an end ; but when they thought of 
Sophron, their sorrow was turned into 
joy. They knew that his treasures had 
been marked with the Cross, and were 
stored up for him in the Royal Palace, 
and that he himself was dwelling in 
the happy city where the law df Exile 
was unknown. 


H 


(Eonclu0ton. 


A SILENCE of some minutes succeeded 
the story. Both the children were 
grave and thoughtful. Leonard looked 
anxious to say something, but seemed 
to want courage to begin the con- 
versation. To relieve him from his 
embarrassment, Mr. Mertoun addressed 
himself in the first instance to Mary. 

“ Tell me, Mary,” he said, “ do you 
suppose there ever was a city with the 
same singular law as that of Metoecia ?” 

“ O yes, uncle,” she replied readily , 
“ I guessed at once what you intended 


THE king’s messengers. 115 


by it : the ^ story is an allegory, and the 
law of Exile is the law of Death.” 

“ It is so,” said Mr. Mertoun. “ The 
whole world is but our city of Metoecia. 
We are liable, at any moment, to be 
called upon to depart from it ; and, 
when our summons comes, we go forth 
alone, and no part of our possessions 
follow us. If we hve in forgetfulness 
of this law, our conduct is, to say the 
least, as unaccountable as that of the 
merchants in the story. But what do 
you understand by the vision in the 
mirror?” 

Mary hesitated, and Leonard an- 
swered for her, “ I suppose, uncle, the 
thoughts 'awakened by the death of 
friends.” 

, “ You are right,” said Mr. Mertoun ; 
“ our seasons of bereavement are those 

H3 


116 THE king’s messengers. 

in which we feel most distinctly the 
nothingness of worldly treasures, and 
are led to take a true view of our posi- 
tion as pilgrims and sojourners upon 
earth. The warnings of Holy Scrip- 
ture, which we may have often heard 
and disregarded, are then so forced 
upon our minds, that we cannot set 
them aside. But tell me, Leonard, 
what particular duty connected with 
the instability of riches is the story 
designed to illustrate ?” 

The boy coloured as he replied, 
“ The duty of giving to the poor ; — and 
I know why you told it us. But,” he 
added, with some slight hesitation, “ I 
hope you do not think that ’I am like 
Philargyr ?” 

“ I have seen but httle of either 
you or Mary,” answered Mr. Mertoun, 


THE king’s messengers. 117 

“ and cannot even tell to which of the 
three dangerous paths pointed out in 
the allegory your natural dispositions 
may incline. But my design in telling 
it was to bring distinctly before you 
the important office assigned to the 
poor in the Gospel. I was afraid that 
you were unmindful of it when a few 
days since you used the words, ‘ Only 
some poor man.’ ” 

“ I was, indeed,” he answered ; “ and 
for the future, I will try to look upon 
the poor as Messengers of the Great 
King. But, uncle,” he continued, after 
a pause, “ do you mean that all who 
neglect almsgiving are like some one 
or other of the merchants in the 
story ?” 

“ I think,” replied Mr. Mertoun, 
“ that all, who abuse their riches, may 


118 THE king’s messengers. 

be comprehended under the three great 
classes that I have described. First, 
we have those like Philargyr, w'ho do 
not spend them at all : next, ■ those 
like Megacles, who spend them, but not 
on proper objects : and, lastly, those 
like Euprepes, who spend them, and on 
proper objects, but not with a proper 
motive.” 

“ It was not quite that which I 
intended to ask,” said Leonard. “ Is 
it not possible to be partly like one 
and partly like another ?” 

“ Undoubtedly,” replied Mr. Mer- 
toun ; “I have, in the story, pur- 
posely kept the lines clear and dis- 
tinct, in order to trace the course of 
each separately. But in actual life 
they often seem to cross one another, 
and without careful self-examination 


THE king’s messengers. 119 

we cannot tell to which path even 
we ourselves may be inclining. There 
is, however, a yet more important 
difference between actual hfe and 
the allegory. The merchants are re- 
presented only as the possessors of 
great wealth, and with the single 
duty of almsgiving. Is that a com- 
plete view of our position as Chris- 
tians ?” 

“ Oh no,” replied Mary ) “ you said, 
when you explained to us the Parable 
of the Talents, that our health, our 
time, our affections, and the events of 
our daily life, all form part of the 
Talents for which we shall have to 
account.” 

“ They do,” said Mr. Mertoun ; “ and 
the Talent of Wealth, though dis- 
tinct from the rest, never in actual 


120 THE king’s messengers. 

life stands apart from them. The ex- 
ercise of it must be kept in harmony 
with the discharge of our other duties. 
The amount and manner of our alms 
should depend, not merely on our 
means, but on the circumstances in 
which we are placed. It may be laid 
down as a general rule, that the wish 
to give, and to give without ostenta- 
tion, should be a moving principle 
with all alike ; but in each particular 
instance it will be controlled and 
limited by a variety of events that it 
is impossible to define. There is yet 
another omission in the allegory.” 

“ Do you mean,” asked Leonard, 
“ that the merchants only received a 
single warning, and went on in the 
same course to the end of their ca- 
reer ?” 


THE king’s messengers. 121 

“ It was not that to which I refer- 
red,” answered Mr. Mertoun, “ though 
certainly, in that respect also, their 
supposed case is but an imperfect re- 
presentation of our own. Each line 
in the story is brought almost uninter- 
ruptedly to an end. In actual life, 
they may be broken off by God’s 
mercy, and Philargyr, or Megacles, 
become as Sophron. Still, however, 
the allegory is a true representation 
of the course of unrepented sin. The 
omission of which I speak occurs ra- 
ther in the history of the youngest 
brother.” 

“ You mean,” said Mary, “ that we 
cannot really lay up for ourselves riches 
in heaven, and that all we do is ac- 
cepted for the sake of our Saviour. 
But was not that intended by the mark 


122 THE king’s messengers. 

of the cross which was seen on the 
merchandise ?” 

“ It is implied in it,” replied Mr. 
Mertoun, “but it does not form, so to 
speak, any distinct feature in the alle- 
gory.” 

“ But ought there to be so many 
omissions in the story ?” asked Mary. 

Mr. Mertoun replied, by taking up a 
drawing which happened to be lying 
on the table : “ Tell me,” he said, “ do 
you know of what this is a picture ?” 

“ Of the church,” she replied^ m 
some surprise at the question. 

“ Indeed !” said her uncle. “But 1 
do not see the east window, or the 
north transept, and but very little of 
the west end of the building. It seems 
to me, that three sides of the church 
are wanting.” 


THE king’s messengers. 123 

“ Of course,” answered Mary, as she 
partly guessed his meaning, “ it must 
be so, for the view is taken from the 
south.” 

“ So, Mary,” said Mr. Mertoun, 
“ the view of life in the story is ne- 
cessarily taken from one particular 
point. It looks upon it as it were, 
towards the side of wealth. There are 
other sides no less important to the 
symmetry of the building, but they 
cannot all be introduced into the same 
picture. I have yet another question 
to ask : — Do you suppose that the 
person who sketched this drawing, drew 
a plan of the foundation of the church 
before he began it ?” 

“ Nay,” replied Mary, “ you cannot 
be serious in asking.” 

“ Well, then,” continued Mr. Mer- 


x 24 THE king’s messengers. 

toun, “ in this respect also it is an 
imperfect 'picture. The real walls un- 
doubtedly have a foundation, and the 
building could not stand an instant 
if it were not there. Do you see my 
meaning, Leonard?” 

“ I do,” he answered ; “ you mean, 
that the death of our Saviour is the 
foundation on which the walls of our 
actual life rest ; and that, though it be 
not represented in the story, it is, of 
course, assumed to be there.” ^ 

“ Exactly so,” said Mr. Mertoun , 
“ And I wish you to mark clearly the 
distinction between this illustration and 
the former. The several duties of life 
are like the different walls of the build- 
ing, which may be brought out in 
greater or less distinctness, accord- 
ing to the point from which we view 


THE king’s messengers. 125 

it. The doctrine of the atonement is 
to the Christian as the one foundation 
on which they rest, and without it the 
picture could not be really faithful, 
for the building itself would cease to 
exist. But to return to the duty of 
almsgiving. Can you tell me any 
passage in Holy Scripture in which 
it is insisted upon to the apparent exclu- 
sion of others ? You were mention- 
ing, Mary, the Parable of the Talents. 
Do you remember the description of 
the Day of Judgment, which follows 
it?”* 

Mary reflected a moment, and then 
answered, “ Those on the King’s right 
hand were rewarded, because they had 
fed the hungry, given drink to the 
thirsty, and received the stranger.” 


* St. Matt. XXV. 34, 35. 


126 THE king’s messengers. 

“ They were so,” said Mr. Mertoun ; 
“ and our Blessed Lord assured them, 
that inasmuch as they had done this 
unto one of the , least of His brethren, 
they had done it unto Himself. In like 
manner, those on the King’s left hand 
are represented as being punished sim- 
ply for neglect of the poor. There are 
also two parables concerning rich men, 
in which the same view is brought no 
less distinctly before us.” 

“One of them,” said Leonard, “is 
that of the Rich Man and Lazarus.”* 

“ It is so, ” answered his uncle ; “ no 
other sin of the rich man is there 
pointed out to us but that of neglecting 
the poor beggar who lay at his door. 
The other parable to which I referred 
is that of the Rich Man, who, when his 

* St. Luke xvi. 19-31. 


THE king’s messengers. 127 

ground brought forth plentifully, de- 
termined to hoard the produce.* God 
punished him with the immediate sen- 
tence of death. And our Saviour him- 
self has annexed to it the warning, 

‘ So is he that layeth up treasure for 
himself, and is not rich towards God.’” 

“ Children,” observed Leonard, are 
never very rich.” 

The words were spoken in a low tone, 
as though in answer to his own thoughts. 
His uncle, how'ever, did not let them 
pass unnoticed. “ They are not,” he 
replied, “ according to the ordinary 
meaning of the word wealth. But re- 
collect how the mite of the poor widow 
was pronounced by our Blessed Lord to 
be more than all the costly gifts which 
were cast into the treasury by the rich.' 

• St. Luke xii. 16-21 


128 THE king’s messengers. 

Now the youngest child may either 
give a like offering to that of the 
widow, or he may hoard it up, or spend 
it on himself.” 

“ And if he does hoard it up,” asked* 
Leonard, “will he be like Philargyr?” 

“ Not, I trust,” answered Mr. Mer 
toun, “ such as he was in the end of 
his career. But his bonds were, at 
first, light and flexible ; it was time 
that added to them their weight and 
strength ; and such bonds are often worn 
in secret by children. They are by no 
means free from the temptation to ava- 
rice. The apparently slight opportunities 
they have for its indulgence render it 
less perceptible, but not less dangerous. 
There is no need of a gold mine to fos- 
ter it. The first trifling coin a child 
receives is often formed into the first 


THE king’s messengers. 129 

link of the chain that binds him in after- 
years. If it be followed by the love of 
money for its own sake, and the wish 
for more, he is already beginning to 
share the servitude of Philargyr.” 

The children were silent. The words 
awakened no painful thoughts in Mary, 
for avarice was not one of her failings. 
But Leonard felt the full force of this 
application of the story. The gift which 
he had received from his uncle the pre- 
ceding Christmas had been hoarded up 
in secret, and was loved because it was 
gold. At length he asked in what way 
the fault of avarice might be cured. 

Mr. Mertoun guessed the motive of 
the question, and replied, “ The best 
remedy for all our faults, my dear boy, 
is 10 make them the subject of continual 
prayer. But this, perhaps, more than 


130 THE king’s messengers. 

any other, requires the resistance of 
an immediate effort. The conquering it 
is really like the breaking of a chain. 
Once summon resolution to give, and 
it seems as though some spell were 
dissolved, and the disposition to give 
more abundantly will follow. I do not 
mean that the temptation to save will 
not again come back ; but it will return 
after each defeat with less violence than 
before, until at length it will be sub- 
dued altogether, by the habit of giving. 
You must not, however, forget that 
the hoarding up our money is not 
the only abuse of the talent of wealth ; 
the spending it on improper objects 
is one no less dangerous ; and I believe 
that children, in general, are more fre- 
quently tempted to follow the path of 
Megacles than that of Philargyr.” 


N 


THR king’s messengers. 131 

“ Of Megacles, uncle ! ” said Mary, 
in some surprise ; “ I had fancied that 
his sin was ambition, and not extrav- 
agance.” 

“ It was so,” said Mr. Mertoun ; “ but 
he may be taken as representing a yet 
larger class. His history brings espe- 
cially before us the folly of wasting on 
some mere earthly object those riches 
which might be laid up in the treasury * 
of Heaven. To do this is, in reality, ex- 
travagance. It matters not, to use the 
language of the story, whether we build 
with them mere villas of Pleasure or 
towers of Fame. Children, who spend 
what they have on self-gratification to 
the neglect of the poor, are beginning 
to follow the course of Megacles.” 

“ But can they be also lilte him in 
his ambition?” asked Mary. 

13 


/ 


132 THE king’s messengers. 

“ Undoubtedly,” answered her uncle ; 
“ but the ways in which they can pur- 
chase this species of self-gratification 
are so apparently trivial, that you may 
have some difficulty in tracing the 
resemblance. Perhaps the spending 
money on finery or anything else in- 
tended to excite the admiration of their 
companions, is their nearest approach 
to the particular sin of Megacles. But 
is it not said at the conclusion of the 
story, that EuprepQs, also, had in secret 
been raising a tower?” 

“ It is,” answered Mary ; “ and it 
means, that while professing to relieve 
the poor, he was, like Megacles, merely 
seeking the applause of his feUow- 
citizens.” 

“ This, then,” continued Mr. Mer- 
toun, “is a kind of ambition to which 

V 


THE king’s messengers. 133 

children are peculiarly exposed. There 
is no way in which they can purchase 
applause so readily as by giving -to the 
poor. Each act of benevolence is sure 
to be accompanied by a certain amount 
of praise. And yet if they make that 
the prevailing motive for their gift, 
they have their recompense upon earth, 
and will forfeit it in Heaven. Do you re- 
member the warning which our Saviour 
gave His disciples on this subject ?” 

“ He told them,” answered Mary, 
“that if they did their alms before 
men, to be seen of them, they would 
have no reward of their F ather in 
Heaven.” 

“ Yes,” continued Mr. Mertoun, 
“and He added the precept — ‘ When 
thou doest alms, let not thy left hand 
know what thy right hand doeth ; that 


134 THE king’s messengers. 

thine alms may be in secret; and thy 
Father Which seeth in secret, Him- 
self shall reward thee openly.’ * Is there 
any difficulty suggested to you by these 
words?” 

“ I was wishing to ask,” said Leo- 
nard, “ whether they mean that we are 
to make a secret of every thing that 
we give.” 

“ They cannot mean that,” answered 
Mr. Mertoun, “ for our Lord has also 
told us to let our light so shine be- 
fore men, that they may see our good 
works, and glorify our Father Which is 
in Heaven.t By the command, ‘ not 
to let our left hand know what our 
right hand doeth,’ we must under- 
stand, that we ought to shrink even 
from any feeling of self satisfaction at 


* St. Matt. vi. 3, 4. 


t Ibid. V. 16. 


THE king’s messengers. 135 

our own good deeds^ and, of course, 
yet more to avoid the applause of the 
world. But we cannot help actually 
knowing what we ourselves give, and 
at times it is our duty to let others 
know it also.” 

“ And yet,” observed Mary, “ if we 
do this, are we not really giving our 
alms before men?” 

“ Yes,” rephed Mr. Mertoun, “ but 
not necessarily in order to be seen of 
them. It is the giving with this ob- 
ject that is forbidden by our Blessed 
Lord. Almsgiving is no easy duty, 
and children especially require the 
advice of others in the manner of its 
performance. They cannot even find 
out for themselves proper objects of 
benevolence. They may, therefore, ask 
to be taught how^ to give, and place 


136 THE king’s messengers. 

their offerings in the hands of their 
friends, and yet look for no other re- 
compense than that which is promised 
to them in Heaven. Do you remember, 
Mary, how, when you were a little 
child, your mother would come to hear 
you say your prayers, and yet you did 
not say them in order to be heard of 
her : she taught you to pray, but the 
words were addressed to God. Do you 
understand me ? ” 

“ I think so,” she replied ; “ but will 
there be no difference at all between 
children who give merely that their 
friends may praise them and those who 
give from right motives?” 

“ Perhaps, at times, there may be 
no visible difference,” answered Mr. 
Mertoun, “ but there must always be 
a real one. Recollect, that when it is 


THE king’s messengers. 137 

said, ‘ Which seeth in secret,’ it does 
not mean only that God sees into 
the secret chamber, but into the secret 
thoughts of the heart. He can read 
clearly and distinctly the exact motive 
of' every gift; and as those which pro- 
fess to be studiously concealed, may 
in their very concealment proceed from 
ostentation, so also those which are 
openly given, may, in His sight, be as 
the silent offerings of Sophron.” 

But Mary was not yet quite satis- 
fied. “I know, uncle,” she said, “that 
we must try to be like Sophron in the 
motive of our alms ; but cannot children 
be in any way like him in the manner 
of giving them ?” 

“ Yes,” answered Mr. Mertoun, 
“they may be hke him in this also, 
though the resemblance is an im- 


138 THE king’s messengers. 

perfect one. They may avoid all un- 
necessary display; or again, they may 
conceal what they have already given, 
or the inward struggle by which the 
gift is accompanied, or the self-denial 
which it costs them. All this is as 
a secret store, which adds to the 
value of our offerings in the sight 
of God, if we look for our recom- 
pense to Him alone. But it is diffi- 
cult to lay down any exact rule. The 
line which, as I have said, is purposely 
kept distinct arid separate in the story, 
often seems perplexed and difficult, 
when we try to trace it through the 
conflicting circumstances of life. I 
think, however, that you will seldom 
find any practical difficulty. While 
we walk along our appointed path, 
though we cannot see far into the 


THE king’s messengers. 139 

distance, each separate step is for the 
most part sufficiently clear. Only keep 
distinctly in your remembrance that 
the poor are sent to you by God ; that 
it cannot be right to hoard up your 
money, or spend it on your own grati- 
fications, while you do nothing to relieve 
their wants ; and that your offerings 
must be made for Christ’s sake, and 
without the hope of any earthly recom- 
pense; and the story of the King’s 
Messengers will not have been told 
you in vain. The events of your own 
daily life will best enable you to apply 
it to yourselves.” 

With the exception of a single ques- 
tion, Leonard had been a silent listener 
to the close of the conversation. He 
did not seem to participate in the diffi- 


140 THE king’s messengers. 

culties of his sister. When, however, 
the usual time came for the children to 
retire to rest, he appeared anxious to 
remain behind ; but Mary called him, 
and he accompanied her. Mr. Mertoun 
was left alone. He had seen that the 
children were impressed by the story 
but his joy at this circumstance was 
checked by the remembrance that in a 
little while the feelings awakened by it 
would pass away. His thoughts were 
interrupted by a hght footstep at the 
door ; the handle was softly turned, and 
Leonard entered, alone. There was 
something in his hand which glittered, 
and this he gave his uncle, with a few 
whispered words. The tear rose to 
Mr. Mertoun’ s eyes, as he replied, “ God 
bless you, my dear nephew; you have 
indeed found out the true moral to my 


THE king’s messengers. 141 

story. Go on as you have begun, and 
your path will be clear.” The offering 
which the boy gave was the long- 
hoarded gold, and the whispered words 
were, “ For the Messenger of the Great 
King, who came this morning to your 


aoor. 


OTHER WORKS BY THE AUTHOR OF 

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THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS, 

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